All That is Irish in Whiskey
by Kirabaros
Summary: The sign said 'Do Not Drink' but does Dean listen? Find out how much 'Irish' a Winchester can get on St. Patrick's Day while Sam as usual tries to stop him but everything gets a big jolly green.


**All That is Irish in Whiskey**

"Dean, you really shouldn't be messing with that."

"Come on Sammy, it's good ole brewski and it's homemade," Dean replied smirking as he took another sip of the fermenting brew on the table of Bobby's kitchen.

"Dude, how do you even know that it's beer?" Sam asked his brother while frowning in his 'I can't believe you are touching that' look. Unlike Dean, he knew better than to touch strange concoctions that were made in Bobby's kitchen ever since the 'meatloaf disaster of Valentine's Day' when he and Dean both mistook the hell mutt's dinner for meatloaf.

"I tried it on the hell mutt," Dean replied and pointed to the corner of the kitchen.

Sam followed his brother's pointing finger to the corner where Cerebus was on his side and belching out snores and farts in a tune. Even though he couldn't see the hell mutt, he knew he was there because of the smell and the fact that he could hear the thing. For once he was glad he couldn't see him since it would probably be rather grotesque since Angela said they weren't exactly like cute puppies. Still hearing and smelling the mutt had Sam ask, "You got Cerebus drunk again?"

Dean was on his third stein of beer and the pot still seemed full. He barely made a dent but he was happy. He grinned and replied, "Sure did. The hell mutt is a good barometer on brewski."

Sam didn't need reminding of that. It was something of a discovery to find that the hell mutt liked alcohol but he had a palate as sophisticated as an aristocrat. The mutt was a connoisseur of beer and could literally tell the difference between light and regular, foreign and domestic but the hard stuff like whiskey was another thing. He replied, "Dean, you should know by now that Cerebus is not an accurate barometer for the stuff she cooks up that doesn't pertain to food. Remember the meat loaf disaster last month?"

Dean paused slightly. He did remember that. He recalled demanding why dog chow was on the kitchen table smelling tantalizing and ready to eat. Sam at the time was looking a little green since he did find out that he had just tasted dog chow. To make matters worse, she pulled out a dog biscuit and chewed on it in front of them stating that it was no big deal. This was different though. What could she possibly do to beer of all things? He replied, "So? Sam this is beer or whiskey or something. What could she possibly have done to it? And look, it's green!" Dean picked up the stein he had been drinking out of and showed Sam the liquid in the glass.

Sam sighed. He knew that on this day of days, it was an excuse to go out and get drunk and he really couldn't begrudge his brother that since he had less than six months before… Still he wasn't about to let his brother get into trouble over something that could easily be avoided. "Dean I really think that you shouldn't be touching something like that. You don't know if it was intended for something else."

"Stow is Sammy."

Sam knew that Dean was going to be stubborn on purpose until she came in and settled things. It was like Dean operated on this assumption that only she could make him do anything and Sam wondered if he was doing that on purpose but considering some of the crazy shit they had both seen… He grabbed the stein with lightning fast reflexes and jerked it out of Dean's hand. "Dean, I'm not going to let you turn yourself into something that is going to piss you off later."

Dean reached for the stein, "Give it here Sam. It's Irish day and I aim to enjoy it."

Sam held it out of reach of Dean's grabbing hand, "No way Dean. Making Cerebus snore and toot is one thing. Poisoning yourself is entirely different."

"It's not poison, Sam," Dean replied, "Pull the stick out of yer arse."

Sam paused a moment not sure if Dean was doing the Irish accent as a joke or something was up. It did give Dean the opportunity to leap at his brother. In the end, the green liquid splashed onto Sam as they tumbled to the ground.

"Now look a whatcha did."

Now Sam knew he wasn't dreaming with Dean speaking in an Irish accent but very badly. He shoved his brother off of him and tried to dry the green liquid off. Meanwhile Dean managed to pick up the stein and was dipping away in the pot. He started singing some bawdy tune in his bad accent. Sam had no idea whether to knock Dean's lights out or knock himself out with all the singing. And he couldn't get the green off. To top it off, Cerebus was tooting and snoring in tune with Dean!

Sam had no idea what was going on and he was sure that she was going to say something about the smell. He put a hand to his forehead and tried to think of something else when the most beautiful sound that he ever heard sounded forth, "What in sam hill is going on here?"

That effectively stopped Dean from singing and more surprisingly Cerebus stopped his musical talents. The mutt was on his feet and barking at the two people that were standing in the doorway. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Sorry about the noise Angie but Dean…" He motioned to everything.

"This is really good stuff Angie. You should serve it in a bar or something." Dean's bad accent really made it difficult to be heard but he managed to get it out.

Angela surveyed the scene before her. When she saw the pot and Dean waving a stein, she guessed what happened and she grew concerned. She replied, "And I should serve you a new one. Dean did you drink out of this? I put a sign saying 'do not drink.'"

"I didn't see no sign."

Sam did. It looked like it had fallen flat. The words were face up and he knew Dean would have seen it. He held it up, "This one Dean."

Dean gave a shrug with his shoulder as Angela put a hand to her forehead and looked exasperated. She turned to their guest and saw that she was trying hard not to laugh. Like this was funny. "Dean you know you shouldn't just try anything that is made in this kitchen. Remember Valentine's Day?"

"Yeah but I tested it. The hell mutt liked it."

"Dean, Cerebus is not affected by what's in it," Angela snapped, "All you did was just get him drunk."

Sam nudged Dean, "I told you so."

"Eh bite me princess."

"Whatever, jerk," Sam replied. "Angie what's wrong and why does Haley look amused?"

It was true that Haley looked amused at the whole thing. Angela sent her a scowl as she ran a hand through her hair. She explained, "You know about Irish whiskey? Well that is the real deal. It puts the Irish in the whiskey and it has a profound effect on the person who drinks it. Pretty much makes them into a drunken Irishman."

"Or a lively one," Haley added, not bothering to hide the giggles. "Angie was helping me make the stuff for a few friends from the other tribes. They have a head for alcohol so I figured to bring them down a little. A St. Patrick's Day joke."

"I tell ya, this is some blimey good stuff."

Angela was still running her hand through her hair. She was afraid to ask but she had to. "Dean how much did you drink?"

"I was on me fourth one when Samantha grabbed it from me," Dean replied in his bad accent. He seemed to realize that he wasn't talking normally and it sobered him up quickly. He frowned as he tried talking in his normal voice and found that he couldn't. "Sam, what hell? And why do ya look like the jolly Green Giant?"

Haley burst out laughing. Finally everyone realized what was funny though she really shouldn't. She managed to get out, "Seems like we added a bit too much of the color of the Irish."

Angela finally looked at Sam and saw that where the liquid splashed on him, he was colored green. It was funny but she wasn't in the mood. Rather she felt like she kicked her favorite puppy on accident. Oh she should have put her foot down knowing that Kegger Day, as she called it, was around the corner and from what Sam and Bobby told her, Dean went a little crazy with the beer and other stuff. She wanted to comfort Sam who was looking miserable while pissed but it would just add more humiliation to him for trying to stop his brother.

Finally she said, "Well maybe we did and I think Dean learned his lesson here didn't he?"

Dean, sobered by the fact that his mind was running through with songs in other languages and bar tunes and bunch of other crap, looked at Angela and gave a sheepish grin, "Sorry Angie."

Angela couldn't be too mad but at least one more lesson got into that thick skull of his. "Well I think you will be punished enough since I estimate that it will wear off in about 48 hours?"

"48 hours? You mean I'm sounding like someone digging for potatoes for two days?" Dean looked scandalized at the thought.

"Give or take," Angela replied. It probably would wear off sooner since the fourth one was spilled on Sam but she wasn't going to tell him that. "Maybe you should change your clothes and wear a green suit and a pot of gold."

Sam couldn't help but laugh even though Dean told him to shut up. Dean nodded and said, "I'll find me a pub."

"Why not hang out with me Dean?" Haley walked up to him with amusement in her eyes. "I love that accent. Maybe we could sing a few tunes?" She gave a slight lifting of her brows. She grabbed his hand and led him out with a forceful tug.

Angela and Sam watched them leave. Angela commented, "Can't take the Celt out of Haley." She turned to look at Sam and he was looking at her funny. "What?"

"You sure this wasn't some prank of yours?"

"No Sam. Haley really wanted to play a prank on some tribe members. Her cousins in fact," Angela replied. She looked at Sam and she gave a slight smile, "What's wrong?"

"I'm green," Sam replied making the face he did when he lost his shoe down the drain. He knew it would amuse her since on occasion she did cave to the puppy dog eyes.

Angela gave a chuckle, "It's not that bad but it does look cute on you. Reminds me of a puppy that looks pathetic because he got wet." To add insult to injury, she reached up and ruffled Sam's hair like she would a dog's head. "There feel better?" She teased.

"I will when I get this stuff off of me."

"Leave it on. We can go out and grab a bite and people would think you are really into the spirit of things. You'll fit right in at a bar," Angela returned with a teasing grin. She knew bar food was low on the list of places they liked to eat at.

"I could make you blend in just as well."

"Ooo, lean, mean and green decided to lose the kicked puppy look," Angela replied, "He thinks because he won the tournament that he's a tough guy."

"Only because I have a good drill instructor."

"Everybody loves a brown nose."

Sam started chasing after Angela who bolted laughing. She said, "Run, run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me lean, green, Sammy man."

Sam couldn't help but laugh a little but he added extra speed. He replied, "Watch me. Not even the Drifter can get out of this one." He would get his revenge and he knew just how. He chased her as they passed by Bobby who shouted at them saying that his house wasn't a damn obstacle course.

Bobby then made his way to the kitchen and saw the pot of beer. He was tempted to take a taste when he heard a belch from the hell mutt. Looking at the green mixture and recalling the commotion he heard earlier and seeing Sam run by with a green face… He decided against it and moved the pot to the area that was designated the hazard area. Better safe than sorry. "Idjits." Then the mutt belched again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** All right folks. I bet you can guess which person bribed me with the pie to put this up. They said they wanted to see some good ole St. Patty's Day fun along with the other snippets of their lives. Have a good St. Patrick's Day and don't forget the green!


End file.
